Personal Narrative: Lone Star High School

I’m not an orator, nor am I a scholar. Though I do enjoy a good debate and engaging in intellectual conversations ; I feel like I am never “good-enough”.

I always seem to find myself comparing myself to others. Whether it’s my grades or appearance. I never feel worthy. Except, to my surprise, that competitor, that challenger has never been myself.”I need someone to come up and read their poem,” Mrs. Dalton, the English teacher, said over the 20- something students in the 1A class at Lone Star High School.

We were working on our final project in class. Up to this point, I had managed to make good grades and only participate in small group activities. The students fell silent. “Okay. No hands?” There was an awkward pause as some students cleared their throats while some looked away. “Alright then. Casey, Chris, Farron, and uh. Sarah,” I froze. I could feel my hands sweating and heart racing.

To my dismay, I heard myself say , “Okay!” as I made my way to the front of the class, my heart dropped into my stomach,

I didn’t understand why I was so nervous. No one has ever told me, “ You can’t speak in front of a crowd.”

I tried again. I opened my mouth and began to recite my poem, “Dear Mr. Tupac, there is a body count…”

There was nothing to do; I didn’t have time to question it or make up an excuse. I was put on the spot and had to revert back to my ‘flight or fight’ methods. Sometimes challenging a belief is as simple as just doing it. I didn’t make a conscious effort to say, “I’m going to challenge this doubt and insecurity that I have.” I just spoke.

I finished my poem after about forty five seconds. That may not seem like a long time, but to me it was equivalent to about 100 years give or take a few.
I walked back to my seat and took a deep breath . I felt like I was going to throw up. I’m probably not going to become a motivational speaker. Or even give a TED talk ,but I did it. I spoke in front of a